


Replication

by beaubete



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 1940s/1950s genderbent AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:05:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beaubete/pseuds/beaubete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shirley and Joan are on the case of "Calling it 'women's business' makes you sound like a bigot!" -- 1940s/1950s genderbent AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Replication

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by [sureimsherlock](http://sureimsherlock.tumblr.com/post/35456139092/ok-the-first-thing-i-thought-when-i-saw-this-was) on tumblr.

Joan had never been the kind of woman who waits around patiently for a man.  She was considered a little bit radical for that, but even with her secretary’s salary and the few dinner dates she did to get by every once in a while, she hadn’t a penny on Shirley.  Shirley’s cold, aloof stare at the man who’d palmed her rear at the Yard that afternoon had sent Joan’s stomach skittering nervously; if he slapped her, she dreaded to think what Shirley might do in retaliation.  Thankfully, Donovan had been there to let them by, Shirley’s incessant prodding unnecessary—everyone knew she wouldn’t go away until they’d seen the corpse.  There had been lurid red smears across his cheek and collar—

—which was how Joan had ended up in this situation, though she admitted it’s a cause and effect pattern that perhaps only Shirley, her sister Myra, and now Joan would be able to follow.  Shirley didn’t believe the victim had been killed by the lover whose lipstick was conspicuously present, and—“Please, Shirley!  Why do I have to be the subject of yet another deviant experiment?” Joan protested, attempting to scrub lipstick from her face.  Shirley’s mouth folded in irritation.

“Because, Joan, I don’t trust the idiots at Scotland Yard to know something as trivial as how long the waxes in a lipstick remain supple,” Shirley said drolly.  Her face set cold.  ”It’s women’s stuff, as we’ve both been told before, and of course the unmarried woman sleeping with the man is intrinsically more sinful than the married one he’s with.  There’s no possibility that it could be his own fault for entering into a relationship with two women at once.”

“At least two,” Joan corrected gently, remembering the furl of distaste on Shirley’s mouth at the mismatched cuff links and the neatly-folded pocket square.  Two mistresses, probably, and a wife.

“Yes,” Shirley agreed with a happy little hum.

“Though that doesn’t explain why I’m the test subject,” Joan prompted.

“Because we are already both spinsters living together; does it matter if they consider us bearers of the green carnation as well?”

Joan stared at her, startled.  Her hand fell away, handkerchief drifting to her lap.  Shirley gave a crowing sound of triumph, plucking it away to hold up to the lamp.  ”Perfect!  From this, there is no doubt it was the wife’s lover, the neighbor!”  She held the dark red lipstick to her lips again, and Joan was hypnotized by the slick sheen of it on her mouth.

“What are you—?” Joan asked as Shirley loomed over her again.

“Replication is the most vital step in any experiment, my dear Joan.”


End file.
